"What! You, my dear young lady?" cried the good man. "This is 'Maine to the Rescue,' indeed! I might have known it was you. But I repeat my offer. Make it anything you please, only let me have the snow-shoes. I cannot get a horse out, and have two patients dangerously ill. What is your price for the magic shoes?"
"My price, doctor?" repeated Maine, looking up with dancing eyes. "My price is--one cent. For the Missionary Fund! The snow-shoes are yours, and I will get home somehow with my sled and the mutton."
So she did, and Doctor Fowler made his calls with the snow-shoes, and saved a life, and brought cheer and comfort to many. But it was ten dollars, and not one cent, which he gave to the Missionary Fund.
"The Committee will please come to order!" said Maine.
"What's up?" asked Massachusetts, pausing in her occupation of peeling chestnuts.
"Why, you know well enough, Massachusetts. Here it is Wednesday, and we don't know yet what we are going to do on Friday evening. We must do something, or go shamed to our graves. Never a senior class has missed its Frivolous Friday, since the school began."
"None! Alma's part is too important; no one could possibly take it at two days' notice. Unless--they say Chicago has a real gift for acting; but somehow, I don't feel as if she were the person."
"I should bar that, positively," put in Tennessee. "In the first place, Chicago has not been here long enough to be identified with the class. She is clever, of course, or she could not have entered junior last year; but--well, it isn't necessary to say anything more; she is out of the question."
"It is too exasperating!" said Massachusetts. "Alma might have waited another week before coming down with measles."
"It's harder for her than for any one else, Massachusetts," said Maine. "Poor dear; she almost cried her eyes out yesterday, when the spots appeared, and there was no more doubt."
"Yes, I know that; she is a poor, unfortunate Lamb, and I love her, you know I do; still, a growl may be permitted, Maine. There's nothing criminal in a growl. The question is, as you were saying, what shall we do?"
"We had a dance last week!" said Maine; "at least the sophomores did, and we don't want to copy them."